


Sirius' Picture Perfect Christmas Gift to Remus

by simplysirius



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Blissember 2020, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Feels, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, One Shot, Pining, Relationship(s), Remus x Sirius, sirius x remus, wolfstar, wolfstar angst, wolfstar fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:34:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27944636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplysirius/pseuds/simplysirius
Summary: Artsy Sirius uses his drawing skills and seven years of memories to make Remus the best Christmas gift to end all Christmas gifts.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 83





	Sirius' Picture Perfect Christmas Gift to Remus

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr @simplysirius for daily fics and fanart! I also take requests :)

Remus was the worst to buy gifts for. Sirius would bug him for weeks to make a Christmas list, but every year it was always the same. A couple books. A jumper. A new set of quills. One year, Remus got really crazy and asked for a new teapot. It was all the same boring things, and Sirius wasn’t about to give him a boring present.

Here they were, their first Christmas after graduating Hogwarts, nestled in their cozy flat on a quiet street in London, and Sirius wasn’t about to let the occasion pass by unnoticed. Their first Christmas in their own place! The first time they went and picked out a tree together, the first time they were going to attempt to make a Christmas feast without burning the house down, the first time they were going to hang their stockings by the fireplace and hang lights around their front door and wear matching footie pajamas on Christmas morning because Sirius insisted.

It was a moment to celebrate, and all Remus wanted was a new bookshelf because he had already filled the one in the living room. Sirius couldn’t do that. Remus was worth so much more than a stupid bookshelf.

Sirius spent hours out at the shops, wandering around Christmas markets and ducking into hole-in-the-wall stores to find something interesting, something that had a story. 

Nothing could ever truly encapsulate their story; it was an epic saga of longing glances and devious laughter, a string of lingering touches and soft whispers until, in a fiery explosion, everything had changed, morphing into a mixture of urgent kisses and hushed promises. And now they were here; together, against all odds. A wedding certainly looming in the future, spending forever on the horizon.

After a full day of scouring through every store London had to offer, Sirius sulked back home empty-handed and no closer to pulling off the best Christmas yet.

Remus was in the kitchen when he returned, mixing a silver bowl tucked under his arm as he peered down at the recipe book on the counter. His eyes flickered up to the door as Sirius walked in, and Sirius’ chilled bones were instantly thawed under his warm gaze.

“How was your day?”

Sirius spread his empty arms and grimaced. “It was fantastic.” He dipped his finger into the mixture beside Remus and stole some batter. He hummed at the taste. “This is good, but you’re the worst to buy for.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “I already told you, all I want is a new bookshelf. I don’t need anything else.”

“You don’t need anything, but you deserve everything,” Sirius said, dropping a kiss on Remus’ cheek before skirting around him to get a drink. Christmas shopping is hard work, especially when you don’t buy anything.

“Okay, that’s a lie. I do need something,” Remus announced, peaking Sirius’ attention. “I need you to find me the cupcake tin.”

Sirius deflated, his mouth falling into a hard line. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” Remus shrugged with a smug smile, “but I can’t make cupcakes without the tin, and James will be very disappointed if I bring a bowl of batter to the Christmas party.”

“I dare you to,” Sirius grinned, heading down the hallway to the spare room where they kept their yet to be unpacked boxes.

There were two things Sirius and Remus were very bad at: keeping out of trouble and unpacking after moving into their flat. It took a solid two weeks before they hung up their clothes, and another three weeks after that to put away all their plates and silverware. Somehow, Remus’ books had been the first things they unpacked.

Sirius flipped on the light and was immediately overwhelmed by the mountain of boxes shoved in the corner of the room. Some were labeled – Hogwarts, Do Not Open Under Any Circumstances SIRIUS – but others were blank, leaving Sirius digging for gold. He searched the first few boxes without any incident, only screaming once when a spider crawled out from one of Remus’ old childhood toys, but the cupcake pan remained elusive. The next box he opened made him freeze.

It was a small, narrow box, easily misplaced and long forgotten about, with a fine later of dust over the flaps. Sirius knew it was the wrong shape for the pan, but opened it anyways because something felt so familiar about the box. It was just paper inside. Hundreds of pieces of parchment, some still rolled, others torn and ripped at the edges. Sirius couldn’t remember why he kept it. But then he examined what looked like a transfiguration assignment much closer.

Amidst the notes for the Switching Spell was a little doodle in the margin, a quick drawing of three little boys standing together, smiling. It wasn’t very good, but Sirius immediately remembered making it back in one of their first classes, huddled together under the piercing eyes of McGonagall, before they knew how much mischief they would cause in the coming years.

On another piece of paper, a drawing surfaced of two boys, sitting side by side and trying not to look at each other. Sirius made it in fourth year, right around the time he realized his heart beat twice as fast whenever Remus was around.

Every piece of parchment in the box contained a drawing, seven years’ worth, and Sirius instantly knew what he was going to get Remus for Christmas. He glanced down at his watch and grimaced. If he ran, he could probably make it to the art store right before they closed.

As Sirius sprinted out of the hall, Remus craned his neck around, frowning at his lack of cupcake pan. “You didn’t find it?”

“I’ll go buy a new one!” Sirius called over his shoulder, not even stopping to put his jacket on before crashing out the door.

On Christmas Day, Sirius woke Remus up at the crack of dawn, jumping on the bed and shaking his shoulders. This was no time for sleeping. This was the time to open presents. And not just any present. THE present. The present to end all presents. Remus opened his eyes, groaning at Sirius to stop the racket, and struggled to his feet when Sirius refused to relent.

“You go sit by the tree, I’ll make tea, and then we’re opening presents,” Sirius instructed, skipping down the hall to boil some water.

Five minutes later, tea in hand, the steam splashing his face and tugging on his eyelids, Remus was ready to open presents. There were a few boxes under their glittering tree this year. Remus had opted to wrap in elegant reds and golds – so fitting for a Gryffindor – while Sirius had found some brown paper and slapped a bow on top. He pushed the gift into Remus’ hands and sat back, curling his lips around his teeth, hardly able to contain himself.

“I’m not impressed by the wrapping paper,” Remus teased, sliding his finger along the taped edge.

“It’s not what it looks like, it’s what’s on the inside,” Sirius chastised. “C’mon, open it, open it.”

Remus glanced at the package. “It’s not going to bite me or anything, right?”

“No. But if you don’t open it right this very second, I will.”

Huffing, Remus tore off the wrapping paper and raised a single eyebrow. It was a book, but he didn’t recognize the cover, and there were no words on the spine. Not quite what he had asked for, but Sirius was on the right page, at least.

“Thanks, Pads–”

Sirius nudged his foot. “Open it.”

Remus did. And he stopped breathing.

It was a drawing of them on the train. Their first train ride to Hogwarts. James with his too-big glasses and Sirius still with short hair. Remus gnawing on a chocolate bar, his legs still too short to touch the ground. _Our first day, when you were covered in chocolate_ , the caption read.

Remus brushed his fingers over the page, careful not to smudge the charcoal, and looked over at Sirius, his eyes brimming with tears. Sirius placed his hand over Remus’, and urged him to keep going.

The second page was the first night they shared a room together, and the massive pillow fight that ensued; _sleepless nights and pillow fights_. Every page was a new memory, long lost in the ocean of time but now washing up on the shore for one last ounce of sunlight. Everything was in there. The time they went skinny dipping in the lake and Remus almost lost a very important body part to the water demons; _you’re still a terrible swimmer_. The time they nearly exploded the castle in potions; _it was definitely not my fault_. The time they snuck off to the astronomy tower while James was sleeping and didn’t look at the stars, not even once; _you’re more beautiful than every star in the galaxy_.

There were drawings of their many stays in detention; _whoops_. Drawings of nights spent in the Shack; _I love your furry little problem_. Drawings of the first time they kissed, and every time after that; _your lips make me drunk_. One of the most detailed pictures was at their Hogwarts graduation, James’ arms wrapped around Lily and Sirius, Remus flashing a sweet smile as Sirius pressed a kiss to his cheek; _the end of an era, but the start of an age_. 

Pictures of them moving into their flat together; _welcome to the Black-Lupin residence_. Eating pizza on their floor because they forgot to buy chairs for their table; _five second rule_. Spending their first night christening the house; _don’t show this to your mom and dad._

And then at the end, the last drawing was a sketch of them sitting by their Christmas tree, just like they were doing now, with a scrawled caption on the bottom that read: _you’re my best memory. Merry Christmas_.

Remus narrowly avoiding his tears dripping onto the page. He gently cast the book aside and threw his arms around Sirius’ shoulders, wiping his eyes on his jumper. “I love you so much.”

“Did I do a good job?” Sirius asked, laughing into the crook of Remus’ neck. He only received a nod in response. “I ran out of ways to tell you how much I loved you, and they say that pictures are worth a thousand words, so now you have a whole book.”

“It’s perfect,” Remus sniffed, pulling away just enough to press a gentle kiss to Sirius’ lips. “It’s way better than what I got you.”

Sirius shrugged. “All I want for Christmas is you. And a skateboard. Did you get me a skateboard?”

Remus pointed to a long box under the tree. “Check that one.”

“Fuck yeah! I knew there was a reason I love you so much.”

Days later, when Sirius had fallen off his skateboard enough that his knees were skinned and Remus prohibited him from riding any more until he got a helmet, Sirius took the art book back, flipping to a new page and sketching a wonderful rendition of him falling on his face and Remus screaming in the background; _life comes at you fast_.

And so, a new tradition began. Every new memory warranted a drawing and soon, there was an entire row of art books on Remus’ brand new book shelf, a love story told in pictures, because words would never be enough to explain how a careless, aristocratic rebel fell in love with a bookish, part-time werewolf. Love is weird, but so are the best things in life.


End file.
